


It's Alright, Everything's Alright

by AbbeyTheWeeb



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Porn with Feelings, Riding, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbeyTheWeeb/pseuds/AbbeyTheWeeb
Summary: Alexander asks John if he could ride him, yet Alexander has other plans. He wants to comfort his depressed lover and show him the love that he deserves.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Francis Kinloch (1755–1826)/John Laurens (past)
Kudos: 35





	It's Alright, Everything's Alright

**Author's Note:**

> TW - self-harm, not really so great relationships

“Hey, it’s alright.” 

Alexander sits on my pelvis, his eyes calming. We have never been in this position before, I’m normally the one that takes control. But he asked if he could be the one in control. I said I do not mind and he can do whatever way he is comfortable. He asked if he could ride me and I nodded. But now, he is completely beautiful, his back arching and the moon shining on him from the window. He’s beautiful, he’s my everything. Alexander kisses me and his tongue goes into my mouth and he pulls away. 

“You're beautiful,” he says. He strokes my undershirt, which I still have on. He pulls on the hem of my sleeve, yet does not take it off. 

“And so are you,” I whisper. My hand goes for his hip and I rub it lightly, his freckled face blushes. He shivers at the touch of my hand and smiles warmly. 

“May I take your shirt off, dear Laurens?” he asks, his hand going to the hem of the undershirt. He smirks and I smirk back and nod of approval. He nods back and starts getting the buttons undone. When he is done, he pushes the middle of the shirt away to see my chest. “So handsome, I am so lucky…”

I giggle. I am not used to this. I do this sort of talk when Alexander is below me and I am in him, telling how beautiful he is. But to me, it was strange. When he talks about my appearance, he uses slang and does silly little flirts in my ear when he reaches down for my crotch when we are working. But this… this sounds personal. Yes, I do know all of his things are personal, but it seems… different. Not a bad or good difference, yet he is being a bit softer. He isn’t being cocky and lustful like his usual flirts, it is like… he wants me to feel his love. 

I think of Francis when I was below him. When he was in me he kept to himself, only cursing a few times and we were finished. After, we either held on to each other or just laid in the same bed, and his back turned on me in the bed. Francis only said I was handsome once. It was when we were still friends and not lovers and he said it when we were around. It was not personal, I do know. 

Alexander continues. “Handsome… I love you so much, I want you to understand that.”

I take off my undershirt and expose my bare chest. His eyes twinkle and he kisses my neck and I shiver. His mouth feels good against my bare neck and he sucks it quietly, his hands on my shoulders to position himself better. His lips come off my neck and then he does a little kiss as if he knew it is going to bruise. His hand trails my scars on my shoulder from Germantown. “My brave, wonderful soldier…” he murmurs and kisses the scars. He does the kisses lightly and so lovingly. “You know how much I love you?”

“I do wish the answer is a lot,” I grin. I bury my face on the base of his neck where he meets the shoulder, kissing and nipping it. He moans and whispers, “Jack,” much to my delight. He grinds up against his hips against mine in response and we both let out a shaky breath.

He pushes me, my back to the bed frame. Yet, his face does not look hungry at all. He takes his hand and presses it on my chest, right above my heart. He closes his eyes and breathes slowly. I know he loves my heartbeat, lets him think clearly. He grins, “Dear John?”

“Yes?” 

“I want to let you know that I love you so much,” he coos. His hand goes on my cheek and it feels so warm against it, it feels so right. He continues, “I am so glad that I have you as a lover. I know you think you are a sin against God and a freak-”

I want to stop him. He’s lying, I know. “Alexander-”

“Let me finish,” his voice is soft and it shushes me. His thumb massages my cheek and his other hand grab mine. “You think you are the biggest sin, yet whom are you hurting? God forgives us for your sins and you should… Hell, love isn’t even a sin. Laurens, I want you to love yourself so much. I know it is hard, but I will always be by your side and help you achieve that goal. I love you so much, dear.” 

I don’t know what to do at this point. I am starting to understand that he wishes to be in control only to tell me this. Perhaps I am wrong, he also wants to ride me. But for right now, his main goal is to tell me how I should love myself, things I always have never done. He brushes his thumb against my cheek again and I can feel the wetness on my cheek. I have et out a single little tear. “Alexander…” 

“It’s alright,” he reaches up to kiss my head. “Let it all out, let it all out…”

And yet, I do not fully sob. I am not at that point, it is only a few, less than five years out of my eyes. And yet, I want that comfort. He welcomes me to lay my head on his chest to weep, but I only do it for a few seconds. I sniffle and kiss him, my love and passion do not surprise him and he kisses back. Both of his hands are on my cheeks as I whimper into his mouth.

“Do you want to continue?” he asks, his voice soft towards me. “It’s alright, Jack.” 

I don’t know what to do. I hate crying, men shouldn’t do that. I am not weak, I am not weak… yet I want to continue. Alexander’s love somewhat has power over me, I want to be taken care of. No one has ever done this to me and it feels so wonderful… Francis would never do this, he did not truly love me. But my dear boy, he does. He wants me to feel that love and let me love myself. 

I have opened up to him so much, he knows how I feel. He has seen my terrible days of depression, my frantic sobs from my father, and terrible expectations… He knows all those terrible things I have done to my arms in moments of hatred. He knows how much I care for him when I whisper into his ear at night, saying, “I love you.” 

He wants me to have my turn now. I’m now the one that is being cared for, taking all of those terrible years of stress and self-hatred and throwing them away. I do a simple sniffle and I nod. “You can continue.” 

“You sure?” He has a little smile on his face that is so comforting. 

I nod and peck his lips softly, needing so much of that comfort. “Yes, please…” 

He breathes and his lips kiss the tip of my nose and then on my chin. He continues his praise of how I’m “handsome” and how he loves me so much in between the kisses. He kisses my neck and doesn’t bite, he just wishes to be soft towards me. He reaches for my hand and squeezes it and I squeeze back. I sniffle again as another cold tear rolls down my cheek. 

“Dear?” Alexander asks. “Can I see your wrist?”

I know why he wants to see them. I looked down at one of them, their terrible lines were there. Many were faded, yet some were not only two weeks old. Alexander knows each time and we talk about it, yet this feels even more personal. I always say I love that I do this to myself to punish what I have done: disappoint my father, how I am a walking sin, the bruised and bleeding skull of my dead nine-year-old brother… everything is in my mind, pounding, telling me how I should run to the frozen Schuylkill River and make a whole and drown in it. Only Alexander, the man who is sitting on my pelvis, keeps me from doing it. 

I let out a shaky breath and swallow down a sob as I show him everything. “I haven’t done it,” I whimper. I wonder what I look like, my eyes red from crying and my mouth putting sobs down my throat so they cannot reach my mouth. “I haven’t done it, Alexander… I haven’t, please…”

“I know dear,” Alexander kisses my head, so calmly, unlike me, who shakes. I am still not used to showing people how weak I am when it comes to my difficulties. The only ones that have known are Gilbert and my dear boy. The feeling of comfort is so strange and alien yet it feels so right. I wish I had known my dear boy and my friend much longer, perhaps I will be more sane. 

He slowly takes my wrist in his hand and kisses the palm of my hand. “You are so brave, dear J. Each second you don’t harm yourself, I am so incredibly proud of you.” Then he starts kissing each and every little line, kissing them as if our lives depended on it. I let out a little sob as he says, “it’s alright, let it out.” 

And then, I have finally reached the level where I let it all out. 

I have to say, I feel like the luckiest man in the whole world right now. As his little compliments overwhelm me into tears, I can feel so much of his love and how he wants me to feel it. Tears trickle down my face as I remember how this all started, I thought he just wanted to live out some of his sexual fantasies, yet I was so wrong. He wanted to make me feel love and affection, the things that I have barely gotten with the people that I have known in my cold life. 

“My beautiful love,” he hums as he goes on to the next wrist and starts kissing there. I let out a little chuckle as I blink out tears. He continues with his lovely little remarks, “I love you so much, you know that? You are my other half and it helps me so much. You deserve so much love and affection, dear. You are so strong, I want you to know that.” 

He does his final kiss and it is a bit longer, his eyes are closed and there is a small little tear in his eye. I wipe it away and he pulls me into his chest. My strong arms go around him in a hug and he embraces me back. He drags his fingers through my hair and kisses my head as I finish my sobs. 

“You want to lay down now?” he whispers. 

I nod. “Yes.” 

He pulls me down a little bit and we both fall on the creaky bed, yet we are still in an embrace. I lift up my head and look at him and his beauty is so stunning as his head lays on the pillow. I carefully grab his hand and I squeeze it and he does the same. He questions, “Was that alright?” 

“Thank you,” I say, even though it doesn’t make sense. “Thank you so much, Alexander. I just-”

“I wanted you to feel love,” he smiles. He brings up my hand to his face and he kisses a little scar, one of the newer ones, softly. “I hope I reached my goal.”

“Oh, dear…” I murmur, “you did.”

I bring my face close to his and I kiss his lips and he kisses back. His hand goes for my cheek and mine goes for his waist and we keep our lips together only to separate when we either giggle or breathe. 

“I love you,” I whisper. I do. He isn’t like Francis, who only saw me as a tool to get himself off, he is loving and caring. He wishes so much happiness for me and shows me that I do deserve it, no matter what anyone thinks about me. We end our kisses and press the tips of our noses together, the bed warm with blankets and love. 

“I love you, too,” he says back. He sighs and his cheeks go pink. God, you are so handsome… Do you want to continue intimacy? It is alright if you do not want to.”

I nod. “Yea’, we can continue.”

He gets on top of me again and is more lustful, yet he still has that softness on me that always makes sure that I am alright. As he unbuttoned my breeches carefully, I have to wonder, why has God given me such a wonderful man. And for the first time for a long time, I feel love towards myself and when his lips go on mine, I close my eyes and know everything’s alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !


End file.
